TRX  XA3TTB  07  THX  ISLXS. 

Thkhi  I>  rumor  la  l>«'k  llarbur. 

Aim)  tb*  fo       >r«  >ll  uttr: 
Tor  •  BtraDicrr  lo  tb»  ofltos 

Dr4W«  thnn  duirn  to  k*u  at  bar. 

In  tbr  grar  of  mrlj  mutri\nt, 

BUek  •Kslntt  tbr  onnRe  alrsak, 
MiklfiK  In  briow  th*  ladiin. 

WItb  net  onlora  ki  bfr  p««k. 

Somrtblng  miikni  thrlr  bearu  unMWT 
An  tbrr  watch  thft  lonx  black  hull 
.     for  nhe  brlnK*  tb^  atorm  Ijabtnd  her 
Wbtif  hrinn  brr  thrrr  Is  lull. 

Wftb    .     pilot  and  tioii[>ok«n, 

Wbera  the  danclny  breakera  ara» 
Pr»««!»tiy  ahf  Trvra  and  raoM 

In  acrufw  the  roart»i{  b.r,— 

Roand*  and  luffa  and  comra  tn  anchor. 
While  the  wharf  hraina  to  throng. 

Alienee  falla  upon  the  women. 
And  mUKirlnB  •tire  the  stroaR. 

Th'r"  with  aome  o'lucure  foreboding. 

An  A  Kraybalreil  watcher  nnillea. 
They  (>erce|ve  the  fearleaa  captain 

U  tba  Master  of  the  Islea. 

They  recall  tbe  bleak  December 

Many  atreamlng  yea  -n  aico, 
When  the  stmnKcr  h*.  been  algbted 

DrlvInK  flhnrewanl  with  the  anow ; 

V'hen  tbe  NioRter  cnme  amonK  tbero 
Wltb  hli  calm  and  jourtly  pride. 

And  bad  nailed  uway  at  Rundown 
With  pale  Dnra  for  his  bride; 

How  again  he  came  one  summer 
tVhen  the  herring  schools  were  late 

And  had  cleared  before  the  mornlog 
With  old  Aiec'a  son  for  mate. 

There  was  glnmnur  with  tbe  Master ; 

He  bad  tales  of  far-o(T  seas  ; 
But  bis  habit  and  demeanor 

Were  of  other  lands  than  these. 

He  bad  ne^er  made  the  Harbor 
But  there  sailed  away  with  him 

Wife  or  child  or  friend  or  lover, 
Leaving  eyea  to  strain  and  swim.— 

Strain  and  wtit  for  tbeir  reiurnina; 

Yet  they  never  had  come  back  ; 
For  the  pale  wake  of  the  Master 

Is  a  wandering  fading  track. 

Just  beyond  our  utmost  fathom 

Is  the  anchorage  we  crave. 
But  the  Master  knows  tbe  soundlnga 

By  tbe  reach  of  every  wave. 

Jv^t  beyond  the  laat  horiion. 
Vague  upon  tbe  weathirgleam, 

Loom  the  Faroff  Islfg  forever, 
The  tradition  of  a  dream. 

There  a  white  and  brooding  summer 
Haunts  upon  the  gray  sea  plain, 

Where  the  gray  sea  winds  are  quiet 
At  the  souroea  ot  tbe  rain. 

There  where  ail  world-weary  dreamers 
Get  them  forth  to  their  release. 

Lie  the  colonies  of  the  kindred 
In  the  provinces  of  peace. 

Thither  in  the  stormy  sunset 

Will  the  Master  sail  to-night : 
And  tbe  village  will  be  silent 

When  he  drops  belo^  the  light. 
Not  a  wul  on  all  the  hillside 

But  will  watch  her  when  lihe  clear*. 
Dreaming  of  tbe  Port  o'  Strangers 

In  the  roadstead  ot  the  years. 

"  Port  o'  Strangers,  Port  o'  Strangers  I" 
"  Where  away  f"  "On  the  weather  bow." 
'  •'  Drive  her  down  the  cio»lnH  distance  I**    .    . 
That's  to-morrow,  but  not  now. 
What  imperial  adventure 

Some  wide  morning  it  will  be, 
Sweeptna  In  to  I^nt-ly  Haven 
From  the  chartleaa  round  of  sea  t 

How  imposing  a  departure, 

While  this  little  harbor  smiles. 
Steering  for  the  outer  saarim 
With  the  Master  of  the  lalca  1 
KiHuaoaorr, 
Jcaa.  lan. 


AK  AFTERWOBS. 

BroTIIIcr,  the  wi.rld  above  yon 

la  very  fair  today, 
And  all  things  seem  to  love  you 

The  old  Bcoustomed  way. 

Here  in  tbe  heavenly  weather 
In  June's  while  arms  yon  sleep, 

Where  once  on  the  bills  together 
Your  haunts  yon  used  to  keep 

The  Idling  sun  that  laie* 

Along  tbe  open  fleld 
And  goaalps  to  the  dai-lea 

or  aeoreta  unrevealed  ; 

The  wind  tbat  stirs  the  graaaea 
A  motceiit  and  Mien  stills 

Their  trouble  a^  he  prases 
Up  to  the  darkling  bills,— 

And  to  the  breeiy  clover 
Has  many  things  to  say 

Of  that  unwearied  rover 
Who  once  went  by  this  way ; 

The  miles  of  elm-treed  meadows; 

Tbe  clouds  that  vovage  on, 
Htreeling  their  noiseless  shadows 

^rom  the  oounirlea  of  tbe  sun ; 

The  tranciull  river  reaches 
And  the  pale  stars  of  dawn  ; 

Tbe  thrushes  in  their  beeches 
For  reverie  withdrawn  ; 

With  all  your  forest  fellows 
In  whom  the  blind  heart  calls. 

For  whom  tbe  green  leaf  yellows, 
On  whom  the  red  leaf  falls ; 

The  dumb  and  tiny  creatures 
Of  flower  and  blade  and  aod, 

That  dimly  wear  the  featurea 
And  sttributes  of  God  ; 

The  airy  migrant  ^mers 
On  gauzy  wlng^f  Are, 

Those  wanderera^Md  roamers 
Of  inflnite  desli*; 

The  ralnblrds  and  all  dwellere 

In  solitude  and  peace. 
Those  lingerers  and  foretellers 

Of  infinite  release  ; 

Yea.  all  the  dpar  things  living 
That  rove  or  bask  or  swim, 

Remembering  and  mlagivl-g, 
Have  felt  tbe  day  grow  dim. 

Even  tbe  glad  things  growing, 
Blossom  and  fruit  and  'tem. 

Are  poorer  ^r  your  going 
Becouse  you  were  of  them. 

Yet  since  you  loved  lo  cherish 

Their  pleading  beauty  here 
Your  heart  shall  not  qnlte  perish 

In  all  the  golden  year : 
But  God's  great  dream  above-  them 

Must  be  a  tinge  less  pale 
Because  you  lived  'to  love  them 

And  make  their  Joy  prevail. 

HlWTBOaH  niLi. 

MiDsi'HHia  &.J, in). 


A  BOBIH  SOHO. 

"O  lover,  be  loyol.  lover,  be  loyal, 
liover,  be  loyal  while  life  is  new  I" 

A  robin  sang  from  the  April  botigh; 
And  her  mate  sang,  "  Love,  be  true !" 

For  the  burden  of  morrow  is  more  than  now, 
And  the  rain  must  fi(llow  the  griding  plow. 

"O  lover,  be  loyal,  lover,  he  loyal, 
The  year  Is  going,  the  days  are  fewl 

Red  was,  the  morning,  gray  is  the  rain." 
And  her  mate  ssng,  "Love,  be  true'" 

For  the  griefs  of  morrow  are  men  than  now. 
And  tbe  gulls  mav  follow  the  griding  plow. 

"  O  lover,  be  loyal,  lover,  be  loyal. 

I.«ver,  be  loyal  thy  whole  life  through  1 
Red  Is  tbe  rain  where  tbe  suu  goes  down." 

And  her  mate  sang,  "  Love,  be  true  I" 

For  the  }oya  ot  morrow  are  mote  than  now, 
As  harvest  follows  the  griding  plow. 


THE  TBAOEDT  OF  WIIXOW. 

••WatkR,  Water  "f  the  wood  " 

Bald  the  llsaome  willow  tree, 
"Take  me  with  you.  tawtiy  Water, 

Down  tbe  summer  to  tbe  aea  I" 

•'  Willow,  Willow,"  said  the  water. 

"  It  is  weary  far  to  sea  ; 
But  If  you  will  love  me,  Willow, 

You  shall  learn  to  ran  with  me." 

"Water,  Water,"  said  the  willow, 
"  Yon  are  brave  and  you  are  strong ; 

Here  among  the  silent  shadows 
I  have  loved  you,  loved  you  long." 

"Willow,  Willow,  on  my  bosom. 

Hurry,  hurry,  hide  your  face: 
Then  acroas  the  world  together 

We  will  lead  the  wind  a  race." 

"  Water,  Water,  how  you  babble  f 

Yet  I  know  we'll  never  part. 
For  my  little  face  Is  bidden 

Deeper,  deeper  in  your  heart." 

''Hurry,  harry,"  said  the  water, 

"  Let  us  wander,  let  as  go ; 
For  I  hear  the  hush  of  summer, 

And  the  catling  of  the  snow." 

"  Water,  Water."  said  the  willow. 

"  Walt  and  I  will  go  with  you. 
I  am  only  common  Willow, 

But  I  love  you,  love  you  truel" 

Willow,  Willow,  how  !  wonder 

That  you  can  he  so  deceived, 
When  you  know  the  spendthrift  Water 

Never  yet  baa  stopped  or  grieved  I 

Water,  Water,  bow  I  wonder 

You  can  make  so  mneh  ado 
Over  simple  little  Willow— 

And  be  glad  when  all  is  throngh  I 

THE  PAITHLESS  lOVEB. 

O  Life,  dear  Life,  in  t..il8  fair  bouse 
Long  since  did  I,  it  seems  to  me. 

In  some  mysterious  doleful  way 
Fall  out  ot  love  with  thee. 

For,  Life,  thou  art  become  a  ghost, 

A  memory  of  days  gone  by. 
A  poor  forsaken  thing  between 

A  heartache  and  a  sigh. 

And  now,  with  shadows  from  the  bills 
Thronging  the  twilight,  wraith  Dn  wraith. 

Unlock  tbe  door  and  let  me  go 
To  thy  dark  rival  Death '. 

THE  FAITHFUL  LOVE. 

O  Heart,  dear  Heart,  In  this  fair  house 
Why  haRt  tbou  wearied  and  grown  tired. 

Between  a  morning  and  a  night. 
Of  all  thy  soul  desired  P 

Fond  one,  who  cannot  understand 

Even  these  shadows  on  the  floor. 
Yet  must  be  dreaming  of  dark  loves 

And  joys  beyond  my  door  I 

Bat  I  am  beautiful  past  all 

The  timid  tumnlt  of  thy  mood, 
And  thon  returning  not  must  still 

Be  mine  in  solitude. 

KBMDHAM. 

11.  SBPTCMBBB.  net. 

As  these  vcmei  ere   prlnlcJ  tor  private  circulation  only.  It  U  re- 
qaested  that  jou  wll   guaril  against  ttieir  sppearsnce  In  the  pnbllc 


Buia  Ciuiaa. 


New   tOBI  CITT. 

SSPTSaBSB,  19B&. 


maM 


